Tag: romantic

time will tell

On By blshLeave a comment

I wrote the following about my most recent ex a while after we met. I knew meeting him was marking something important for me. I didn’t know what the significance was exactly. I didn’t even know if it was a connection that would last. It’s interesting to read this now that it’s over. What’s the saying? Everything’s clearer in hindsight. I think my favorite part about it though is hearing the voice of a woman so sure of herself in the unknown.

Time did tell. You are not here. And I have to be okay with that. I am still her. This woman—whole, magical and messy. I can see the forest for the trees. I felt love and became better for it.

**

Putting together sentences, I am as shaky and unbalanced as a fawn. How do I express myself? It’s been so long, and this is so new. I don’t know how to speak about it so I thought maybe I could write about it. But I am still overwhelmed and just as shy. No one’s had this effect on me in a long time. Usually, it’s so easy and typical for me to give in. Older versions of myself happily let the rush of romance and connectivity take over. My heart would be on the line before I ever even knew their middle names. Addiction at its finest.

With you, it’s different. I’m different. I am healthier, more healed and confident. I love who I am and the people I already have. I don’t need someone to serve as the balm for the pain of my life. I feel it just as much as the joy now; and I am better for it. I am not looking to be completed and I am not looking to be distracted. I didn’t think I was looking at all, but then suddenly there you were.

I don’t see you as a daydream. You are real, with all your own flaws and complications. So what do I do? I think I do what I could never do before: trust myself and take my time. Sit in the uncomfortable truth that you are still a stranger and I cannot control how this ends up—I can only be myself in it. Slowly, we’ll unfold. You could change your mind. That thought brings up this automatic anxiety, but instead of it reverberating throughout my body, it’s more a fading echo, a ghost from the past. It can’t live here now. When reminded, it fades. I cannot control what you do. God, it’s such a relief. I can just be. You can just be. Nothing could come of this. Something could come of it. Maybe something already has. There were moments where I really thought maybe my heart stopped working this way. When I’m with you I think maybe it could again.

I cry at the thought. Not because of you, but because when my heart cracks open I still feel the grief and shame of every time I was wrong before. Crying feels like letting that go. Crying feels like accepting I could be wrong now, but letting it be. I can’t help it. There is a bundle of pain, nerves and hurt around me when it comes to this, and it’s not a bad thing. It’s a reminder of how deeply I can feel, even when it’s been so long.

I feel more conscious within myself than I’ve ever felt with any previous romantic interest, and it’s not because of you. That’s not to say you’re not special. I actually think you are. But I know that what I am feeling has everything to do with me and the work I’ve done. I am not giving up parts of who I am to be here, and you’re not asking me too. I almost don’t know what to do with that. Maybe this is just sex. Maybe that’s an intrusive pessimistic thought. Maybe that’s the reality. It doesn’t feel that way though, and this being more rather than less is the scarier outcome for me.

I always thought I feared rejection, but the terror is in all the ways you seem to accept me. I have never been here as this version of myself. The unknown space of no longer shrinking to be desirable. No longer masking parts of myself I thought weren’t lovable, and the question isn’t how do you feel about it—the question is how do I feel? And I feel.. Excited. Intrigued. Inspired. Challenged. Confident. Kind. Curious. Passionate. Whole. Level-headed. Playful. Honest. Vulnerable. Open. Okay.

The path is unwinding ahead and I know now where it goes—A place where I become more of who I am and surrounded by people who love me for just that. Will you be there? Do I want you there? Time will tell, and I’m okay with that.

the water bearer

On By blshLeave a comment

I love pouring my heart out into other people.

I just do. I am over the top. I will sing you songs. Write you letters. Buy you books I think you would like. I will carve out time for you in a place that feels like there’s none. I will listen thoughtfully to your troubles, help you carry them to the river as you trust the water to wash them away. I will ask for the words that lay in the deepest, forgotten back corners of your heart. I will ask for you to speak them aloud, and I will tell you mine. I will build a shelter around you so you feel safe to bare it all—shadow and light. When we lock eyes, you will hear the language only souls speak. The love I pour into you will transcend time, and you’ll know when you feel it still 15 lifetimes from now.

Yes. I love pouring my heart out into other people.

For that fact I’ve had to learn the hardest lessons in boundaries, self-worth and codependency. It was so easy filling everyone’s cup, but when it came to my own it stayed empty. I starved myself of love in the pursuit of love. The road back to myself, to my center, with not just a cup overflowing but a fountain, has been long and arduous. But I cannot doubt that I am here, swimming in a self-love and inner knowing affirmed by my ability to handle the outer chaos around me.

To fill my cup I had to be honest with myself about many things. Most especially about when I’ve given only in expectation to receive. When offerings came not from genuine love, but manipulation born from wounding and fear. To face myself, my fear, disappointment, grief and shame and sit with it, hold it and release it is my most difficult task and greatest teacher. The healing comes in waves. It’s a practice. It’s a road you walk with no tangible destination, but a feeling. I don’t walk it alone. Anytime I lean on a friend, cry on a shoulder or open up my heart to show a place unhealed, I am met with compassion. There are no words to describe the love I’ve found in my friendships. True friends, soul family, are willing to see you in all ways that you are. They put you on no pedestal. There’s no distorted vision of your being. They just see you, and that’s enough. Whoever came to your mind as I was describing this, please text or call them ASAP. Thank them. Tell them you love them too and see their light.

Back to my point—I do not desire to hold back, and I do not have to. If you are like me, a romantic, a lover, a poet, a wordsmith, a mystic, a dreamer; let your nature roam free. Work with the inner leanings of your soul rather than against. It is possible to pour your love into people and have boundaries. If someone cannot receive your love, you must redirect it back to yourself. Don’t let the rejection of your offering become a challenge to offer more, and don’t let it scare you into stopping your love. Like I said, redirect. Redirect! Redirect it back to yourself, to your family, your friends, your neighbors, your mentors, humanity.

Also pro-tip: pouring yourself doesn’t have to be a rushing waterfall. It can be a slow trickle. Until you learn more about someone. Until you build trust. Until you feel safe. Take your time. This is a lesson I learned recently, thankfully. I’ve always known “Love cannot live where there is no trust” (a quote said by Cupid from one of my favorite Greek myths). Yet there I was time and time again pouring my love into strangers who had built no trust with me. I so often let chemistry and the wonderful intoxication of connection lead me down long winding paths of up and down whirlwind romances that only led me back to myself, worn out and wishing for something more.
Things are different now. They’ve been different. It’s easier to say no. To say take it slow. To say this is what I need. To say this is not enough. It’s peaceful, and I didn’t have to sacrifice who I was. I simply became more of it. More love. More strength. More boundaries. More self-worth. More commitment to a clearer vision of what leading a good life means to me.

This world is changing rapidly with no end in sight. It’s surreal, devastating and dizzying. But please, hold onto who you are at your highest self. Hold on to your values. Hold onto what values you. If you don’t know what or who that is, be curious. Remain open to discovery. But also don’t worry about being centered all the damn time. This is not Zen 101. Nothing about the current state of the world is Zen, okay? I talk about centering a lot, but to center is to be in a moment. The action itself is fleeting, but the feeling is eternally within you and always accessible to you. A moment of reconnection while we traverse the complicated and unpredictable landscape of life that lays before us. Negative emotions come and go. Positive emotions come and go. They are not who you are. Every now and then practice reaching your center however you want to do it. Do you paint? Do you run? Do you write? Do you laugh? Do you hold your child? Do you go for a drive? Do you sing? Do you lay in a field watching the clouds slowly pass by, ignoring the ant crawling on your arm because hey, maybe he’s watching them too and you don’t mind the company? There are so many ways throughout your day to touch this part of yourself that is full of maitri (loving-kindness for oneself). The moment before or after it maybe you were crying, screaming, checked out, sulking, grieving. Whatever it was, all are okay. Truth is, you can center yourself and the absurd fact remains that although you have an entire universe inside your head, you’re simultaneously one of many little beings hurtling through space and time at inconceivable speed. So, for the time you’re here, as challenging or delightful it may be, who do you want to be?

Because I already told you about me. I love pouring my heart out into other people, and I’m learning to be more myself in a way that’s healthy. I love holding space for healing. I love seeing all of who people are, even in the darkest and deepest of ways. I love remembering the little things no one notices. I love my solitude and losing myself in my senses. I love green and being surrounded by it. I love new ideas and the buzz of brainstorming the limitless. I love storytelling. I love philosophizing over coffee. I love eating cake with my best friend at two in the afternoon just because we feel like it. I love walking in the rain. I love being vulnerable. I love so, so many things and people on this weird little planet. Finally, I love owning exactly who I am and stepping into the power I have to change my life, in both the smallest and largest of ways.

So, yeah. That’s who I am and going to be. No matter what happens.

nouveau départ

On By blsh2 Comments

Two fraternal scars decorate my inner ankles now. The left cut went deeper than the other—born at the same time but different. Both there all the same. I never wear those boots, but I wore them that day. As we walked around the lake you asked me if they were comfortable. A light question in a heavy conversation. Between our words the silences lingered markedly. With anyone else I would’ve said it was uncomfortable, but with us the silence is never necessarily unwanted. I’ll admit, my cards were held so close to my chest I wondered if the Queen of Diamonds would imprint onto my heart. Would that make me stronger? In truth, my only real longing was to reveal my hand—in blind faith, in devotion, in one last hope you’d reach out for it.

The material of the boots dug into me. Our feet trekked along the paved path, but where were we really?

I stared straight ahead.

I could barely look at you the entire day.

Did you notice that?

I sighed.

It was beautiful, all of it.

The lake, the birds, the people, the trees.

The way you and I were strewn out in pieces like it mattered; as if we had any chance of making this better, as if there had ever been anything to make better.

We always speak in so many words. I blame our Mercurial moons. There had never been anything to say. From the moment we met, what existed (what exists) between us was never meant to be talked about, it was meant to be felt. To be known.

And now, all we needed to do was hold each other, and then let go.

Hold, and let go.

Hold, and let go.

I wanted to stop walking, it hurt.

I wanted to stop talking, it hurt. I didn’t know it but this wound was still being made. We were picking at scabs that hadn’t even formed yet. So, you asked about my boots and I replied they were fine.

“Comfortable enough.”

All the while I was bleeding, the entire way through.

~~~

Present day

The nonfiction piece above is so different to look back on now. It is an echo of someone who was on the brink of a huge upheaval. This past me wanted so badly to focus all her attention on those around her because then she could avoid what was really happening. There was so much I was still learning, still healing, still struggling to accept. I didn’t want to see how hurt I was. How hurt I had felt my whole life and continued to let myself feel. The pain I felt had a root so much deeper than my present situation. That situation, like so many before it, was a sad symptom of many larger issues I needed to admit. Issues of self worth, self-respect, boundaries. Most of all my issues of expressing my needs/desires/truth and knowing when to leave when they didn’t align with certain people. While I had been diving into this work prior, all of 2019 forced me to realize how much deeper into myself I needed to go.

I needed to see all for what it was, and decide where I would go from there. I needed to realize control isn’t a part of the equation, but acceptance is most certainly the answer. I needed to stop surrendering my personal power and with it responsibility for myself. It had become natural for me to hand my power over to circumstance when what I really needed was to embody it, believe in it, embrace it, celebrate it.

This power. My power.

Power of perspective. Power of choice. Power of forgiveness. Power of acceptance. Power of humility. Power of radical honesty. Power of unconditional love.

Now, I can say I know I am doing my best. I am weaving a life full of equal parts messy and joyful moments. It is both a dream and a sobering reality. I am standing here, in my power, still with two fraternal scars but they have faded, and I am grateful. I am right where I am supposed to be. All of my glorious failures as well as my successes have contributed to this. I am ecstatic to be Here. I am so in love with all of it—the hurt, the ecstasy, the epiphanies, the quiet, the growing pains, the fluidity, the irony, the belonging, the questioning, the inner knowing, the solitude, the confusion, the release, and most of all—the roaring, unending wilderness of possibility.

I’ve held on tightly for all of my life to so many people, places and things. I was desperately reaching. I was trying to get a handle on something not one thing outside of myself could give. I didn’t understand, but I do now. The peace I long for is with me. I experience it in moments. I let the healing wash over and accept the work may never be completely done. But moving in this direction feels right, and I like that.

Hold, and let go.

Hold all in love, all in wonder, all in respect, all in gratitude, all in honor.

Let all go in love, all in wonder, all in respect, all in gratitude, all in honor.

Whatever stays is none of my business, but where I choose to stay is ALL of my business.

And I choose to follow my heart, to be led by my Soul, to trust in the Grander scheme. I must accept the risk that comes with such a choice, and I do, humbly. Don’t get me wrong—I’m far from alone in this. I am surrounded by miraculously supportive, loving beings. And while I know this is my path regardless, that fact makes this choice much easier. So thank you. You all know who you are, Family and Friends. I am lucky to be loved by you and to love you. I do not take you for granted for a second.

So here goes.

To something different. To living in authenticity. To discovering a higher Truth. To pursuing my Personal Legend. To allowing my heart to want what it wants and listening to it—wholly & presently—so I may embrace the untamed, magical life I am creating. To letting go, so I can more fully receive.

And So it is.

fireflies.

On By blshLeave a comment

I think my favorite time of day in the summer is the sticky sweet middle of a hot afternoon. It was one of those afternoons when I ordered a Lyft in downtown Nashville. The driver rolled up and said, “No, no don’t sit in the back. Come on up to the front seat.” Usually I’d respond with something like, “Thanks, but I’ll just sit back here,” but his kind eyes beckoned me to take the seat beside him. This man had a story to tell. We all do, but we’re not all storytellers. Some of us keep ours to ourselves, or maybe just share with those we love. Others are called to share theirs with the rest of the world. I think storytellers recognize other storytellers before they ever even open their mouths, before they ever pick up a pen. Sure enough, as soon as I closed the door he began recounting the odyssey of his life. His struggle with drug abuse. The failure of his first marriage. The complete and total loss of himself.

And then, the Revival.

Now, he was a pastor at a local church. Assistant pastor actually—his wife led the congregation. He told me about her journey to hell and back with her abusive first marriage. She’d even written a book. Honestly, I’m not positive why I’m writing this entry. All I know is I think about this encounter often. I think about the peaceful expression that came over him when he told me about meeting his current wife. I think about how I could see the pride practically bursting out of his chest when he told me about her book and her work for their community. The way he smiled and laughed when he described this woman who had awakened his entire heart. I told him I hoped to be as lucky as them both one day. He said, “If you want a good man, pray for him.” Simple advice, but not my style. By this point in 2017, I’d embarked on this current spiritual path, but I was still weary about “praying” and what that meant or looked like to me.

I’ll hand it to him though. There was something about the way he said it. I believed him. Granted, ever since I began “praying” for things I’ve been met with what feels like multiple ego deaths and devastating revelation after revelation. In love, I especially seem to have attracted a string of messy lovers with no shortage of lessons to be taught between us. They appear suddenly and fade out just as quickly. Kind of like fireflies. Sure you could catch them, try to keep them. But that’s not where they belong. It feels so much better to let the experience be what it is. Sitting out in the field enveloped in the glow of dusk, the lights of the fireflies blinking in and out of view, until one lands on your arm. It tickles. It makes you laugh. You’ve been chosen. It’s gone as quickly as it came, but it brings a smile to your face nonetheless.

So yes, I’ve had a lot of fireflies. Each one with a different light to share. Exposing my darkest parts, deepest wounds, awakening me to the medicine I need to successfully integrate those pieces of me. The medicine has come in many forms–boundaries, meditation, unconditional love, compassion, detachment, self-worth, and so much more. Each one of them a step closer to a prayer answered.

To be honest, I’m not sure how invested I am with that specific prayer being answered anymore. The further I walk, the more expansive love becomes. These structures we’ve placed upon it just don’t seem to fit as well anymore for me, or any human I know. It’s not about the external, it’s internal. But that’s the point of the journey right? It starts with self. My love for myself. My willingness to face myself. My willingness to heal myself. My ability to forgive myself. So even still, I pray–for many people and many things–and “I dream of a love that even time will lie down and be still for.” (Thanks for that, Practical Magic). I know it all leads me not closer to meeting another, but to meeting myself. And when I do pray for love, I don’t pray for love to come into my life. I am already surrounded by it. I was born of it and it lives within me. So I pray for my soulmates to come into themselves, to rise into their highest, to have compassion for their lowest, to find their freedom, their mission, their calling, and to sprint toward it. Or walk. Whatever timing their journey calls for. So when we cross paths in this lifetime, we will, as ever-evolving beings.

Anyway, life is good. And frustrating. And surprising. And painful. And inspiring. And confusing. And satisfying. You don’t need me to tell you that. I think my favorite part about this journey is realizing how NOT unique my experience is. I am not separate from you. I feel more full, more myself than I have possibly ever. I have more offerings to give than words. I am planting the seeds mindfully. I’m here for any of you. If you want to talk of alchemy, love, loss, prayer, grief, healing, anything. Or if you just want someone with you in the silence. This is all to say–allow others the gift of illuminating what you cannot see. Trust it. Trust yourself.

And so it is.

the eleventh hour.

On By blsh1 Comment

When I write love poems it feels like they belong to some wild combination of every lover I’ve ever had and those I’ve yet to meet or even imagine. I’ve been thinking about it, and I believe this has a lot to do with my Venus in Sagittarius in the 11th House with Scorpio on the cusp. The planet Venus of course ruling our love and relationships, sits in Sagittarius in my chart. Sagittarius being the fiery archer who shoots first and asks questions later, led by a higher faith and devotion, sometimes to a fault. Both the student and teacher, Venus in Sagittarius has molded me into a lover of learning, expansion and growth in all forms of relationship. Sagittarius trusts and embodies it’s truth, knowing embarking on a voyage in the basis of that truth will always be a journey worth taking.

It all lives in my 11th House. The 11th House is ruled by Aquarius. The house of the collective, friendship, innovation. It is a house of our highest hopes and biggest dreams. It shelters our wishes before flinging them forward into the world in vibrant anticipation. It’s the house that reminds us of the importance of how we are all interconnected. Mix that with Scorpio in the 11th house and it becomes an intense, transformative desire for deep relationships/friendships, trying to fulfill an emotional depth (but after deep self-reflection I’ve realized this is a depth I can only fill myself).

When I reflect on my poetry and try to pinpoint it to one person, it’s hard to do. I can be inspired by a particular situation, but once the words come out it’s like they weave through the spiralic timeline of my life, reaching out and caressing each soul who has ever touched my life and ever will. I am grateful for this expansive view of love. I am curious as to where it is leading my adventurous heart next.

How closely have you looked at the planets/placements in your chart? In what ways do they act as your muses, informing your creativity?

The next 11 poems/prose range from 2015 to now in no particular order. I didn’t pick that number by the way. It just ended up being that many I chose to share. Love it. (11:11). This is a glimpse into what my heart looks like in evolution. Ever changing. Thank you.

1.

You break my heart always

at the same time of year

the delicate in between

of winter and spring

spring buds and blooms

winter frosts and consumes

it’s a war

that I can no longer bare to watch

I know the warmth is coming

I am tired of having to learn this way

2.

come speak in stars with me

our mouths housing entire constellations

planets dripping from our tongues

where every word echoes

of some distant universe,

pulling us into its gravity

how could I communicate

with you

in any other way

than through the heavens

3.

It’s always a mourning process.

A morning,

process.

Purging you from my bed.

I see no trace of you

on the white linen

But I feel remnants of you

within the threads.

4.

You see
I am trying to forget

every smile,
your lips slightly tugging at the corners of your mouth
every freckle,
I counted when you laid asleep next to me
every brush of fingertips
when we reached for the same thing

When did we stop reaching for the same thing?

You see
I am trying to forget

the lights reflecting off river water
how your hands shook
until they met my waist
the way you pushed your hair back
just slightly out of your face

You see
I am trying to forget 

all the ways you said I love you
be it in this alphabet or another

You see
I am trying to remember

how beautiful I am
how the curves of my body never need to meld again to yours
for me to feel love

You see
I am trying to remember

how gentle I am with lovers hearts
and how rough I’ve been with my own
I’m asking for it to forgive me

You see
I am trying to remember

what I deserve
how to center myself
how I am full

I didn’t depend on you,
I just simply wanted
you

I ask, 
“When did it stop?”
“Where did it go?”
You tell me you do not know

And I too, 
wish I couldn’t recall

5.

In my eyes,
everything is short term. 

My existence is less than 
a quick glance between forbidden lovers.

But I remember standing by the river,
laughing in between kisses,
bodies slightly shivering 
from a midnight summer breeze,
or maybe just nerves.

Meeting you,
standing next to you,
laughing with you,
kissing you,
holding you,

has made me believe in infinity.

6.

Straddling your lap, your hand in my hair, breath hot, your laugh, my smirk, color rising to my cheeks. That is when you tasted sweet. We were ripe for love. Now we sit on opposite ends of the couch, rotting.

7.

Looking back on it, I should’ve squeezed my thighs around your head harder. I never caused you nearly as much pain as I did pleasure. But you paid me back in both.

8.

I like boys who taste like winter.
his fingertips venture across my exposed skin. 
with each touch, I feel a chill, a spark,
a bite.
he makes the tip of my nose pink and the color rise in my cheeks.
he whispers, you are not delicate.
I wonder how he knows, but I do not need to wonder long.
because winter is harsh, unyielding,
callous.
yet here I am, waiting.
the next avalanche will come.
it will not bury me.
he’s right, I am not delicate; I have conjured storms too.
there are worlds within ourselves that the other must never touch,
but we do so anyway.
enveloping each other in brumal wrath,
bare skinned, 
bare boned.
I fear we may shatter when we touch.
and then,
like an early spring melts the soiled snow, 
his lips soften when they mold to mine.
and I 
feel
warm.

9.

holding you is like the fluttering of tired eyelids

light

and heavy, all at once

an irresistible surrender I can’t help giving into

together, we dream

together, we create

entire worlds neither of us could’ve imagined alone

when I wake I fear I will not remember,

so half asleep I reach for you,

instinctively you pull me closer

I can hear you

humming in your sleep,

whispering my name

over & over & over & over

I think to myself,

“no, no,

I could never forget this”

10.

I love the way you lure the laughter out of my mouth.

a symphonic composition,

you tell me, “this is a soundtrack we could build a life to.”

with the slightest movement of your hand you conduct the desire through me.

I follow you, in time, matching heartbeat to heartbeat.

how long until it stops?

“shhh,” you whisper as if you’ve read my mind.

you probably have.

“stay, here in it, with me.”

I nod, I smile,

here comes that laughter again.

my entire being shouting,

encore,

encore,

encore.

11.

I’m not sure what Heaven is like

but I imagine

it’s reminiscent of the way you’d quietly open my bedroom door,

shedding all your winter layers

in the effervescent glow of my television.

slipping under the sheets,

curving your body around mine.

your longing for me

pouring out of your skin.

a sacred transference.

an eternal unity.

a primordial inner calling,

much older than us, taking over.

unable to sense any separation,

we’d ascend as a soulful ensemble

in a loving, all-knowing safety.

I imagine Heaven

is something like that.

endless

On By blshLeave a comment

Everything about you, feels like a miracle.

And when I say you, I mean you,
and you,
and you,
and you.

I mean us.

I mean every connection you’ve ever made,
be it for a moment or a lifetime.
Or lifetimes.
(Meet me in the next).

I mean every smile,
from the one that tugs at the corner of your lips,
so delicately they never even notice.
To the one with all your teeth bared,
laughing maniacally from the bottom of your belly.

I mean the way flowers burst out of your chest,
every time you open up
and let someone a little bit closer than expected.

I personally,
especially,
love the daisies.

Never stop blooming.

What is it that e.e. cummings said?
“I carry your heart (I carry it in my heart)”
It is divine to experience how they beat in the same time measure.
A rhythm,
steady and true.

I beg of you,
never stop writing this song.
An endless melody,
let me dance until my feet give way.

And then, you’ll catch me.
You’ll catch me.
You’ll catch me.

illuminations.

On By blsh3 Comments

For two weeks I’ve woke up to the thought: “I need to do a reading and write a post today.” But the days kept passing, I didn’t pull any cards & I didn’t write a word. But this afternoon I thought, “I’m ready to do a reading and I want to write a poem.” Not even a poem, really. Just words. I’ve always hesitated to call anything I do poetry. Real talk? That’s just a personal insecurity. It’s a fear-based thought. I think to myself, “How can anything I write ever be beautiful enough to be considered poetic?” Then, I wake up out of that messy, low-self esteem, self-sabotaging daze and I realize: my entire goddamn existence is poetic. And so is yours. If you’ve forgotten & needed a reminder–this is it.

There are levels to the messages when reading tarot. Some of them we often don’t even realize at the time of a reading. It comes later, when we’re standing in the checkout line or folding laundry. I find we have our most extraordinary revelations doing ordinary things. That’s not by accident. So, my few words here won’t cover as deep as the meanings run with these cards, but maybe it can pull something out of you.

Long story short, I decided to bang out some shitty unedited free verse while meditating on these images.

My advice? Do what you need to do to revive your creativity when you feel it losing its breath. It’ll thank you.

The Sun.

to feel the warmth on my face,

revitalization

you gift me with your energy

all of it, radiating

from my fingertips

outstretched like rays

I reach for us,

glowing,

growing

I feel you underneath my skin,

soaking in, you stay

like the tan lines that still linger

on my body in deep winter

we laugh basking in light

ablaze,

even as we fade

I still feel the heat, eternal

between us

9 of cups.

so tell me,

if the Sun is the closest star to us,

if it’s light gives Earth life

why are we sending our wishes out so far?

I must have asked the Sun for you

not Sirius or Polaris

you came from the Sun

that is the only way this could feel

this good, this fast

I pour myself into you when you come

just like I poured out into the heavens,

waiting for you to arrive

here you are,

there you go

8 of cups.

and there I go,

the Moon comes out to wrap herself

around the Sun,

a crescent of comfort

she shows me parts of myself,

of you, of us

that I couldn’t see in daylight

I do not regret wishing for you

I do not curse the Sun for bringing you

I do not hate the Moon for revealing you

I am grateful for knowing

when to leave and when to stay

like Orpheus leading Eurydice,

I cannot look back

I am honored to love struggle

into stride

but mostly,

I am in love with knowing that if I go,

and you are mine, you will follow

someday, I know

you’ll catch up.

Here.

On By blsh1 Comment

I once asked a man to tell me something. Anything. It was one of those times where I asked just because I wanted to hear him talk. Mostly because I liked the sound of his voice, but I also knew whatever he said would put my heart in my throat (in the good way). Laying down together, my head nuzzled in his neck, hand on his chest, he spoke softly to me: “While waiting for the elevator to come up here, I read on the map: ‘You are here.’ and I thought, ‘Yeah I am, and I’m happy to be.’”

Instinctively, I felt myself clutch him tighter, as if somehow holding him closer meant I could find that sort of peace and clarity too—the joy of just being here. No worrying in the future or fretting about the past I couldn’t change. I wanted nothing more than to just be right there. Here. Then. Now.

Turns out he said a lot of lovely things, and it still didn’t work out. Artists do that to you. I’m guilty of it too. But every time I see the words, ‘You Are Here’ on a map, I’m reminded of that feeling. The way his presence—being Here—brought me there too. I am reminded of my own breath. I breath in and think, “Yes, I am here and I’m happy to be,” and breathe out with gratitude.

One of my favorite passages on love & intimacy is from “Enchanted Love” by Marianne Williamson. She equates the people who come ready to transform/love us as angels. We have been angels to people and others have been angels to us. Yet even though we pray for our angels to find us, we (more often than not) do not recognize them when they come. Even worse, we reject them. Mostly because it’s painful to finally get everything you’ve been asking for. It never seems to come at the right time or really look how you pictured it. With great love comes great healing and the challenge of facing your wounds. If you’re someone who’s in denial about having places that need healing, how can you be ready for someone who will expose them to you? You’ve spent all of this time cocooning yourself into a place that’s comfortable, even though it’s not where you want to be. It’s not aligned with your highest good or all that you are capable of. Then someone comes along & says if you continue to stay there then you cannot have what you want—real authentic love, rooted in mutual healing and forgiveness. But all of our trust issues and trauma keep us from believing them. It’s the past and the future which hold us down. We don’t trust because of what’s happened to us before. We don’t trust because of what could happen to us down the road. But we could trust if we let go. If we detach and trust being Here, we could break the shackles of our past shame, guilt and pain, and banish the thoughts of future downfalls. Rationally it’s understandable to be cautious, but it comes at the expense of magic—which is exactly what opening yourself up to love is. Give up your need to control it.

“The miracle of love is expressed through other people… They contain, in every touch and sigh, the information you need, the miraculous power to alchemize your weaknesses and turn them into strengths… And you continue to pray for what you’ve already received, and will one day realize that what you let fly by was a miracle intended to heal you. You might even say so but by then it will probably be too late.

Angels do not light for long; they fly away when love denies them. They do not linger in the regions of earthly fear…

Next time she comes—whoever she is—perhaps you will not deny her. Next time she comes, be humble before God. Next time she comes, admit your pain. Next time she comes, come forth yourself. Next time she comes, let go your resistance.

Next time she comes, be brave.”

– Marianne Williamson, Enchanted Love

So I am calling on you to recognize your angel. BE someone’s angel. Trust in the timing of people’s comings and goings. Appreciate who they were, who they are and who they will be. Genuine connections exist only to serve us positively. Let yourself be carried away by the poetry of the improbable (because it’s never impossible). Be present and trust the process, because You. Are. Here.

for those who I owe thanks.

On By blshLeave a comment

I am thankful for your magic. I am thankful for the way you look at me. The way your fingers feel when they caress my face. I am thankful for your heart. For the way it makes your body glow, beating, living, breathing inside of your rib cage, dying to burst out. When you press your chest up against mine, I am thankful for the way our breath falls into sync. It is primordial. Ancient. Sacred.

I am thankful for you. I am thankful for her. I am thankful for him. I am thankful for the way my mother raised me—to be kind, to be patient, to be wild, to have faith and to be hopeful that everything is working out. Yes, it’s working out. Because sitting right here, right now, what you may be thinking is your heart has such a long way to go. Yeah maybe, maybe.

But maybe it’s all good. Maybe yeah, you’ve still got such a fucking mountain to climb, but so what? Right now, you’re at the base and you have everybody cheering you on. Everybody here is holding a banner with your name on it, saying you’re going to make it the summit. You’re gonna make it to the top.

I am thankful for knowing how to love. For wanting to love, despite all of the times I have stroked the face of love with nothing but compassion and trust, only to have it bite my hand. I am thankful for knowing you. And I mean, knowing you, every inch of you, and the way that knowing you in that way is unique. Unique to any other way than any other person will ever know you, until your bones have gone from this earth.

I am thankful for the revolutionaries. The ones braver, stronger than me. The ones who look at me and lift me up, knowing that I am capable of more and push me to be more. I love you for saying what the world could be and having what it takes to make it happen. You inspire me. I am thankful to be human on this planet we call Earth, and to be surrounded by the entire Universe, to be able to know exactly what that means but also at a loss to understand. To know that it is magic, it is wonder, because magic never died. Magic is all around us. It is the way I feel when I lock eyes with a stranger that somehow I already know, somehow I’ve seen, time, and time again.

So, thank you for being a part of all of this. For being human, for being credible, unique, caring and kind. Thank you for being unforgettable and irreplaceable.

And if nobody’s told you yet today, I love you. I love you. You have changed my life.

You.

On By blshLeave a comment

From the moment I saw Prince Charming kiss Snow White awake, I began to imagine You. In the dimly lit living room, the bright glow of the television screen lit up my face the way the thought of You lit up my heart. I didn’t know You then. Twenty years later and I still don’t know You. Maybe I do, but if so I’m unaware of it at the present moment. You are someone I’ve spent years constructing in my head, but at the same time I know You exist. At the same time, as much as I’d like to think I dreamed You up, I know with how wild and wonderful You are, there’s no way to pinpoint all that makes you You. You are what happens when someone meets everything (both incredible & terrible) in life with pure love—an infinite optimist, a soulful light.

Truth is, I can think day in and day out about You and what I think You will be like. But I know that when You finally show up, You will be all of that, none of that, and so much more. You are the unexpected and the familiar. You bring me healing, but You also need it from me. You hurt, I hurt. I forgive, You forgive. And when we grow, we grow together, not apart.

You tell me you like the way my mind works. You wake me up with fresh coffee. You love the way it feels when I run my hands through your hair. My mother adores You. You call me by my last name sometimes. You eat the vanilla side of half-moon cookies because You know I only want the chocolate. You play me that one song that never fails to make you cry. I cry too. You fantasize with me about all of the places we’ll go, and You start a change jar so we can get there someday. You see us as an adventure. You see us as effortless. You see our love as a way to breathe positivity and generosity into the world. Above all, You are honest with me.

You are honest with me. 

You are honest with me, and You know I would rather hear the ugliest truths fall from your mouth than the prettiest lies. You are everything—everything wonderful the Universe could think up.

I am a wanderer by profession & by nature. Each step is one closer to You. You could be seconds away, or decades. I don’t know when You will find me or I you. But when You do, You will know. And when I wander, You will not shy away. You will follow, proudly and happily, falling into step beside me where You belong.

I am a romantic, and I have been romancing You from the moment I could pick up a pen and write a rhyme. I write about You constantly. You are my favorite subject, and I am Yours. I can’t wait to meet You. Be it for the first time or once again.